My own issues paled in comparison to what he had endured, but I could understand the trepidation he must have felt, and how desperate he must have been for his family to accept his relationship with Dad and acknowledge how good they were together.
“You won’t say anything, will you?” I asked Pop. “Even to Aunt Carrie?”
He sat down with his fresh cup of tea. “Of course not, Noodle. This is between you and your cousin.”
“Thanks.” I let out a breath. “So . . . am I grounded? For what happened on Sunday?”
His forehead wrinkled as he pondered my question. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been grounded.
“No. I think the humiliation you undoubtedly suffered is punishment enough.”
I agreed. “Good, because I have plans tonight.”
He looked at me, a question in his eyes.
Now that some of the weight had slipped off my shoulders, my smile came easily. “I have a date. An actual one.”
Although Emmett and I had spent nearly every waking moment together since Sunday night, I was still excited to see him when he arrived at my cottage that evening. There was just something about getting dressed up and having a guy pick you up in his parents’ car that felt different. All official-like.
For the past couple days, between swimming and canoeing and making out in various hidden spots in and around the lake, Emmett and I had been formulating a plan for our first date. After much debate, we’d settled on the old stand-by—dinner and a movie. The closest movie theater was in Everton, a forty-minute drive away, but neither of us minded getting out of Erwin for a few hours. Mrs. Reese, who’d apparently recovered from what she’d witnessed when she got home from her own movie date the other night, was nice enough to let Emmett use her car.
Once Pop had thoroughly interrogated Emmett about his driving record, the state of the car’s gas tank, and my curfew, we were finally allowed to leave on our date.
“You look amazing,” Emmett said as we settled into his mom’s Mazda.
“Thanks.” I adjusted the hem of my white sheath dress, which I’d chosen specifically because it showed off my tan.
“I feel a little underdressed,” he said, glancing down at his shorts and T-shirt.
He was a little overdressed, in my opinion, but I couldn’t let my thoughts roam in that direction if we were going to make it through dinner and a two-hour movie. Focus.
Along with a movie theater, Everton also provided a decent selection of restaurants. No retro diners, unfortunately, but that was okay because we were both craving pizza. Luckily, we found a small Italian place right near the theater. Inside, a hostess led us to a cozy, private booth in the corner.
“So,” Emmett said once the waiter had disappeared with our order, “your dad was pretty intense back there.”
I rolled my eyes, remembering how Pop had quizzed him. “He’s kind of overprotective when it comes to me. I’m surprised he didn’t ask if you’ve ever run someone over.”
“That’s more your department, isn’t it?”
The sip of Coke I’d just taken almost ended up spewed all over the table. I covered my mouth with one hand and looked over at him, relieved to see that he was smirking. “I was wondering when you’d bring that up,” I said, removing my hand. “I didn’t run you over, Emmett. I almost ran you over. There’s a huge difference.”
“All I know is that one minute I was running through the woods and listening to the Foo Fighters, minding my own business, and the next thing I knew there was an ATV headed straight for me. It got my blood pumping, anyway.”
“You were a jerk, you know,” I said, giving him a light kick under the table. “I know I scared the hell out of you, but you didn’t have to yell at me.”
His smile wilted and he fiddled with his napkin, folding the corners. “I felt bad about it afterwards. I was in a rotten mood that morning. My parents had been fighting since the moment we got to the lake and I just didn’t want to be there. But that’s no excuse for yelling at you. I try really hard not to be that guy.”
“What guy?”
“The guy who takes out his anger on other people. I’ve always been afraid of turning out like my father. The whole ‘learned behavior’ thing. That’s why I’ve never really had any serious girlfriends.”
I regretted even bringing it up, even though, technically, he had. “There’s also the whole ‘break the cycle’ thing,” I said. “It’s your choice.”
“I know.”
He stared into the flame of the small candle that sat between us on the table. An awkward silence descended, and I searched my brain for something to say that might break it. Finally, I decided to go with the two things I did best—diversion, and appealing to a guy’s ego. “If you’ve never had any serious girlfriends, how did you learn to be such a good kisser?”
That got him. He sat up straighter and smiled. “A girl doesn’t have to be your girlfriend in order to kiss her,” he said, giving me a pointed look. “I’ve gone out with people before, but just casually. I guess I’m not the relationship type.”
“Really.” That made me wonder exactly how many non-serious non-girlfriends he’d been in a non-relationship with. Clearly I wasn’t the first.
“Yes, really.” He slid his arms across the table, one on either side of the candle, and grasped my hands. “But I might make an exception for you.”
Fortunately, the pizza arrived then, saving me from a full-blown swoon. By the time the waiter had dropped everything off and left us to it, I had a handle on myself again.
“I’m a terrible girlfriend,” I said in a casual tone as we each reached for a slice.
Emmett paused to look at me. “How so?”
Words probably would’ve gotten my point across adequately enough, but just to be sure, I decided to demonstrate first. Under the table, I let my knee brush against his, then ran my foot along his calf. At the same time, above the table, I fixed him with my patented full-watt smile.
His pizza slice slid out of his hand and landed on the table.
“I have a problem with flirting,” I explained, taking my foot back. “Boyfriends hate that.”
He cleared his throat and rescued his pizza. “You flirt with other guys like that? When you have a boyfriend? Yeah, I can see why they’d hate it.”
“Well, no. That was an exaggeration. Usually I just smile a lot and get overly friendly.”
“I’ve never seen you flirt with anyone.”
I bit off some pizza and chewed, washing it down with a sip of Coke. “We’re pretty isolated at Millard Lake. There’s no one around to flirt with, other than you. And don’t even think about mentioning Nate unless you want to see me regurgitate this pizza.”
“What about that guy you invited to your campfire a while back?”
I snorted. “Conner? Harper forced me to invite him. I don’t even like him.”
Memories of that night came flooding back, the most prominent one being the kiss between Emmett and Harper by the lake. The one she’d never told me about. Suddenly, I felt like I had an ice cube lodged in my throat. I was out on a date with the guy she liked while she was hundreds of miles away with her asshole father, probably wishing she was back here with me. I wasn’t sure which I felt guiltier about—that I was seeing Emmett behind her back, or that in the past two days, I’d barely even missed her. I was a selfish, horrible person.
“Anyway,” I continued, my appetite gone, “I’ve never been in a serious relationship either because guys always dump me for flirting with their friends. Hell, even my best friend quit speaking to me after I paid too much attention to her boyfriend one night. That’s exactly why I was so afraid to—” I broke off and lowered my gaze to the table. My stomach churned. Maybe I was about to upchuck my pizza.
“Afraid to what?” Emmett said, gripping my hand again.
“Admit that I liked you when I knew Harper did, too.”
“Have you told her yet? About us?”
I shoo
k my head. “I can’t.”
He slid his hand away from mine. “Harper and I were never together. Nothing happened between us aside from that one awkward kiss. She knows I don’t like her that way; I’ve never once led her on. Why would she care if we dated?”
“Because she likes you, Emmett. She rarely even notices guys, but she likes you.” I swallowed hard. “My best friend Shay? She was furious when she thought I was interested in her boyfriend. She still refuses to speak to me. With Harper, it would be ten times worse. For one, you and I have gone way beyond flirting. Two, she’s my cousin. And dating the guy your cousin has a crush on is a shitty thing to do. What I’m doing right now would hurt her.”
Emmett leaned against the back of the booth, his pizza forgotten. “So, what? We’re supposed to sneak around for the rest of the summer? Hide it from her? How’s that any less hurtful?”
A burst of laughter from a nearby table filled the tense silence that followed, saving me from having to answer. Good thing, too, because I didn’t have one.
“You have to tell her, Kat. Like, soon. Tonight.”
“She’s visiting her dad,” I reminded him. “I can’t tell her over the phone.”
Emmett continued to watch me, his gaze unwavering. He wasn’t going to be satisfied with a just-friends status, or a secret relationship, or anything other than open, unflinching honesty. And I didn’t blame him one bit.
“She gets home on Friday,” I said, feeling the pizza’s acidic sauce at the back of my throat. “I’ll tell her then. Okay? Just let me have until Friday.”
He nodded, accepting this, and then took hold of my hand again. We relaxed enough to demolish most of our dinner before heading to the movie, where we ate popcorn for dessert and pretended everything was perfect.
chapter 23
The remainder of the week floated by like a dream, one I dreaded the thought of waking up from. My days were spent with Emmett, mostly hiding from the rain in either his cottage or mine, whichever one had a “parent present.” We watched movies, played video games, and sneaked in some alone time whenever we could. On Thursday, I helped his mom make some candles while Emmett, antsy from too much sedentary time indoors, went out for a long, muddy run.
One thing we didn’t do was talk about Harper. Until Friday at five-ten, when her plane was scheduled to land, she didn’t exist between us.
Friday afternoon, I spent a couple hours with him before leaving at two to meet my aunt Carrie at her cottage. Against my better judgment—which was how I did most things these days—I’d agreed to go with her to pick up Harper. The airport was located just outside Weldon, and the thought of a two-hour drive with my aunt, who had no clue about the secrets I’d been keeping from her daughter, filled me with anxiety. As a high school teacher for the past thirty years, Aunt Carrie had an uncanny intuition when it came to teenagers. Mostly, I was afraid she’d somehow draw the truth from me before I was ready to spill it.
Luckily, my aunt was far more concerned with Harper’s impending emotional state after several days with her father. Even a five-minute phone call with Lawrence could unsettle her for days, she reminded me as we drove toward the city. Who knew how five days with him had affected her?
To our surprise and relief, Harper was all smiles when she spotted us waiting for her near the baggage claim. Her grin held as she approached us, hugging first her mom and then me. She looked tanned and well-rested and happy to see us, which for some reason only intensified my guilt.
“Where’s Uncle Bryce?” she asked as we made our way to the exit.
“In the middle of a cliff-hanger, probably,” I said. “He said he couldn’t leave this close to the end.”
Aunt Carrie glanced at her watch. “Kat, text Mark and let him know we’re on our way, okay?”
I nodded and dug out my phone. We’d made plans to meet Dad downtown at a Japanese restaurant for dinner before the four of us headed back to Millard Lake together. It felt strange being back in Weldon. We rarely came back home during the summer, and when I stepped outside into a wall of smoggy heat, I remembered why. Summer in the city was hot, loud, and dirty.
On the drive downtown, Harper told us about her trip. “Dad’s new girlfriend is actually really nice,” she said with a quick, apologetic glance toward her mom.
Aunt Carrie looked more comforted than offended, however.
“They were on vacation from work so we were able to do the rock-climbing after all. And yesterday we went shopping and I got these.” She lifted a curtain of blond hair and showed us her earlobes, which were home to a pair of dangly, yellow gold earrings with multicolored stones.
“They’re gorgeous,” I said from my spot in the backseat. It was true. They were beautiful, and so unlike the simple studs and hoops Harper usually wore. They were the kind of earrings I liked, flashy and noticeable. “Did your dad get them for you?”
She nodded, glancing again at her mom as she dropped her hair back over her ears. Aunt Carrie’s face remained passive, but a slight thinning of her lips betrayed the irritation she worked so hard to hide. Lawrence often tried to buy Harper’s affections, but never extravagantly. He must have really wanted to impress the new girlfriend.
When we reached the city center, Aunt Carrie asked me if I wanted to drop by my condo for a minute, but I declined. There was nothing in there I needed and truthfully, I just wanted to get back to the lake as soon as possible. Being home made me think about Shay, and thinking about Shay made me dread my upcoming tell-all conversation with my cousin. Would she scream at me like Shay had? Quit speaking to me? Ignore me whenever I tried to make amends? I wasn’t sure if I could handle a second round of that.
Then I thought of sitting on my dock with Emmett as we watched the first rays of sunshine in days peek through the clouds, and I knew I had no choice.
“Did I miss anything exciting while I was away?” Harper asked me during dinner an hour and a half later.
Dad had shown up at the restaurant late, having gone home to change out of his suit first. He was picking wearily through his Thai barbecue chicken, looking exhausted and slightly disappointed that Pop hadn’t come with us.
“Not really,” I replied, popping a California roll into my mouth so I wouldn’t have to elaborate. God, I’d missed sushi. The only sushi to be found in Erwin was the packaged kind in the supermarket deli, which I feared might kill me if I ate it.
“So what did you do all week?”
Instead of answering, I shrugged and shoved another roll in my mouth. I couldn’t talk about it over dinner in a busy restaurant with our parents present. I couldn’t tell her about the countless hours I’d spent with Emmett, kissing him, observing him, getting to know him. I couldn’t share the things I’d discovered about him, like that his beloved dog died of old age two years ago and he didn’t have the heart to get a new one, or that his childhood best friend’s name was Joel, or that he acted like two different people around his parents—sweet and solicitous with his mom, short and indifferent with his dad. I couldn’t describe the way his hair changed color depending which way the light hit it, or the scuff of his jaw against my skin, or how his breath hitched whenever my lips found the sensitive spot beneath his ear.
And I definitely couldn’t tell her about my feelings for him, how they expanded by the day and were unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. That, more than anything, would be the hardest to confess.
My dads’ second big barbecue of the summer took place the next day, and everyone they’d invited showed up. Well, almost everyone.
“Excuse me,” I said to Mr. and Mrs. Schaefer, who’d been regaling me with an amusing anecdote about their greyhound, Benson, who was stretched out on the lawn a few feet away. A childless forty-something couple, they owned the cottage on the other side of Harper’s and only came out on weekends.
“Sorry,” I added when they stared at me, taken aback by my sudden disruption. “I just have to—” I motioned behind me at the convergence of neighbors in our y
ard, vaguely indicating that I had other things to attend to. In truth, I had just spotted Emmett emerging from the woods.
“Of course,” Mrs. Schaefer said, waving a hand to dismiss me.
I gave them an apologetic smile and headed toward Emmett. Seeing me, he paused at the periphery of the yard and glanced around. His gaze landed on the deck, where I knew Harper was currently located, and then flickered back to me, questioning. I shook my head. No, I replied with my eyes. I haven’t told her about us yet. His expression darkened slightly, and I felt the urge to defend myself. It wasn’t that I was stalling, exactly. I just hadn’t had a chance to bring it up. She’d gone straight to her cottage when we got back last night, and this morning she was at soccer practice. I couldn’t very well break the news to her in the middle of a party.
“Hey.” I reached him, careful to keep a respectable distance between us, even though I longed to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him hello, like I’d done all last week.
“You haven’t told her?” he confirmed. His eyes locked on mine, softening in a way that let me know he wanted to kiss me, too.
“Not yet.” When I explained why, his expression lightened again, but not all the way. He seemed distracted. “Where’s your mom?” I asked as we crossed the yard.
“She couldn’t make it.”
“Why not?” I’d invited Mrs. Reese myself on Wednesday, and she’d happily accepted. She jumped on any excuse to hang out with my dads and aunt.
“She just couldn’t.”
I stopped walking and seized his forearm, not caring who was watching. Something was going on. “Emmett,” I said softly. “Tell me why.”
He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, not meeting my eyes. “She and my dad had a huge fight this morning.”
I nodded. His parents’ arguing wasn’t exactly groundbreaking news.
Any Other Girl Page 17
